Louise Zedda-Sampson's Blog, page 2
October 1, 2021
Spring update
Even though I’ve been stuck inside a lot over the last few months, much has been achieved! It’s not seemed like it at times, but looking back there’s a bit to write about.
After my book officially released in June, we went back into lockdown and the July book launch was postponed. Disheartening, yes, but these are the times we live in. So, I still kept writing, revising and submitting and it paid off. In August I had a few short story acceptances.
– My horror drabble ‘Bloody Hell’ was accepted for publication in the Black Hare Press dark and disturbing anthology 666.
– Pendulum Papers featured ‘Fragments’ in its August edition – a story about family ties and growing old. It’s available to read online here.
– ‘The Forgotten Sea’ was published in Stories of Survival , a charity anthology published by Australian Speculative Fiction dedicated to the memory of Aiki Flinthart.
And in August and September I had a few chats about my book.
– Australian cricket pioneers given voice in Bowl the Maidens Over, Siren A Women in Sport Collective. Kirby Fenwick interviews me about my book and how I came to write it.
– The Difference Magazine, Cornish College. Andrew Goodman interviewed me for an article in the school magazine, about what inspired me to write this story.
– It’s just not cricket – a woman’s right to choose, Pamela Hart’s Blog. I talked about inequality in sport and the problems facing some female cricketers today.
May 31, 2021
May was a busy month!
Being in lockdown had some advantages – one of them was that I produced my first book. The book is Bowl the Maidens Over: Our First Women Cricketers and it’s about the first games of women’s cricket in Australia. It was received well by Gideon Haigh, which was a fabulous start for the book. You can read what Gideon had to say in his article in The Australian here.
Also in May, Dr Clare Roden, a cricket enthusiast herself, had me over as a guest on her blog where I talk about my inspiration for the book and share a short extract. It was a great start to have the book so well received by cricket enthusiasts and fellow authors.
As this was my debut book, and a self-published one at that, I found the publishing experience both harrowing and rewarding. There was so much to learn and so many different things to do, just to set up the ISBN and register all the details. In hindsight – I wish I’d spent more time learning about the details first! Luckily, I am no stranger to having a home business so I was able to pick things up eventually and manage the admin of the shop and other details. When you self-publish you essentially open a new business.
Another highlight for the month was attending the Frankston Arts Centre launch of Stories at the End of the Line, to find an excerpt of my story on display on the wall!
Stories at the End of the Line is an anthology project that captured the Frankston community’s experiences during the Melbourne lockdown. My story was called ‘Phone calls’ and was about how I managed my
mother’s sudden illness and wrangled family matters and coronavirus restrictions. It was certainly a piece from the heart.
On a lighter and final note, much to my delight, I was a Shadows Awards Finalist in the Best Edited category for Tricksters Treats 4:Coming, Buried or Not!, a book I co-edited with Geneve Flynn. I know people say they didn’t expect it and it was a shock, but I didn’t expect it and it was a shock!
This certainly felt like the biggest month in my writing career. After years of what seemed like rejection after rejection for my short fiction, it seemed that things were taking a brand new direction.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]
May 20, 2021
Bowl the Maidens Over available to order
Bowl the Maidens Over: Our First Women Cricketers is a 100-page illustrated hardback book. It takes you back to the first games of women’s cricket in Australia, and it’s now available for pre-order. You can purchase a copy directly from my shop at a special pre-order price of $22.95 plus postage.
The official release date is 25 June 2021, and all pre-orders will be shipped either on or before that date. Once the pre-sale closes, books will be available to purchase from my store at $29.95 or through major online bookstores.
If you’d like to stay up to date with book news, media and appearances, please subscribe to my newsletter.
Bowl the Maidens Over: Our First Women Cricketers
Blurb
In 1874, John Rae, a Bendigo schoolmaster, approached the Sandhurst Easter Fair Committee with an idea to draw the crowds: a novelty ladies’ cricket match – something Australia had never seen before.
And here begins the story of women’s cricket in Australia. Bowl the Maidens Over presents the factual account of the very first women’s matches from the selection of uniforms, to mentoring by the prestigious Bendigo United Cricket Club, to their ceremonial arrival at the Easter Fair to the during- and post-match critiques. The story is told through the media’s lens and provides insights into the tumultuous road the cricketers travelled, just in order to play.
Illustrated hardback, 100 pages
Publisher: LZS Press
RRP: $29.95
Published: 25 June 2021
About the author
Louise Zedda-Sampson is a Melbourne-based writer, researcher and award-nominated editor. Her work has appeared in peer-reviewed journals, magazines and anthologies and she has co-edited two anthologies. Her research articles on cricket in the 1800s have been published in The Yorker.
May 19, 2021
Pre-Orders Open for Bowl the Maidens Over
Available to order now Bowl the Maidens Over: Our First Women Cricketers is a 100-page illustrated hardback book. It takes you back to the first games of women’s cricket in Australia, and it’s now available for pre-order. You can purchase a copy directly from my shop at a special pre-order price of $22.95 plus postage.
The official release date is 25 June 2021, and all pre-orders will be shipped either on or before that date. Once the pre-sale closes, books will be available to purchase from my store at $29.95 or through major online bookstores.
If you’d like to stay up to date with book news, media and appearances, please subscribe to my newsletter.
Bowl the Maidens Over: Our First Women Cricketers BlurbIn 1874, John Rae, a Bendigo schoolmaster, approached the Sandhurst Easter Fair Committee with an idea to draw the crowds: a novelty ladies’ cricket match – something Australia had never seen before.
And here begins the story of women’s cricket in Australia. Bowl the Maidens Over presents the factual account of the very first women’s matches from the selection of uniforms, to mentoring by the prestigious Bendigo United Cricket Club, to their ceremonial arrival at the Easter Fair to the during- and post-match critiques. The story is told through the media’s lens and provides insights into the tumultuous road the cricketers travelled, just in order to play.
Illustrated hardback, 100 pages
Publisher: LZS Press
RRP: $29.95
Published: 25 June 2021
Louise Zedda-Sampson is a Melbourne-based writer, researcher and award-nominated editor. Her work has appeared in peer-reviewed journals, magazines and anthologies and she has co-edited two anthologies. Her research articles on cricket in the 1800s have been published in The Yorker.
The post Pre-Orders Open for Bowl the Maidens Over appeared first on Louise Zedda-Sampson.
May 18, 2021
Trickster’s Treats shortlisted for a Shadows Award
I was absolutely stoked on Tuesday to discover that Trickster’s Treats: Coming, Buried or Not! is one of the titles in the list of finalists in the Australasian Horror Writers Association Shadows Awards edited works category. Trickster’s Treats: Coming, Buried or Not! was edited by myself and Geneve Flynn and published by Steve Dillon at Things in the Well. It is indeed an honour to be shortlisted for an award and thanks must be given to the publisher, Steve Dillon, for trusting Geneve and I to produce the fourth instalment in his series of Trickster Halloween flash fiction horror books. Kudos to all the authors as well – it’s your words that have made this happen.
Congrats also to the other shortlistees, and the ones that didn’t make the list. There was some really great work in this category this year, which makes its an extra honour that Trickster’s Treats is included. It’s also super to be sharing the list with so many horror folk whose work I admire. Thanks to the AHWA committee and judging team.
The full listing of finalists can be found here, on the AHWA blog, Sinister Reads:
https://sinisterreads.wordpress.com/2021/05/18/2020-australian-shadows-awards-finalists-announced/
The authors I’ve interviewed many of the authors in my ‘Author Spotlight’ series if you’d like to read more about the contributors to this fine anthology. Here is the Trickster’s Treats #4 TOC, and and where applicable, the links to the author interviews:
In a Cave Wall by Dominick Cancilla
Requiem Aeternam by R S Pyne
Bury My Heart, Somewhere Deep by Ian A Bain
Burying the Well on the Wings of a Crow by Herb Kauderer
The Crows of Las Cruces by Kurt Newton
The Box Born Wraith by Kevin David Anderson
The Toddling by Kurt Newton
The Raving by Sheri Vandermolen
Pythia Speaks by Jenny Blackford
Frostfire by Aline Boucher Kaplan
Drowning by Liam Hogan
Digging Up the Past by Chris Mason
Till Death Do Us Part by Kellie Nissen
Digging Up the Dead by Edward Ahern
Buzzing by Lynn White
A Guilty Conscience Needs No Accuser by Fiona Jones
A Light for the Grave by Aristo Couvaras
Whole by Andrew Cull
The Little Helper by Kali Napier
The Garden by Kurt Newton
Tender Age in Bloom by Matthew R. Davis
To Leaven His Bones by Amanda Crum
The Witch Tree by Alyson Faye
Jimmy’s Boys by Laura E Goodin
An Afterlife of Stone by Jenny Blackford
Shaft by Kev Harrison
The House Whisperer by Robert Kibble
Playlist by Stephanie Ellis
There is No Such Thing as Dead by Lucy Ann Fiorini
Dead Set by Steve Dillon
Sleeping with the Dead by Alicia Hilton
A Streetcar Named Lugosi by Mike Sheedy
The post Trickster’s Treats shortlisted for a Shadows Award appeared first on Louise Zedda-Sampson.
Stories at the End of the Line
Writing on the Wall! On Friday, the Frankston Arts Centre launched its community anthology Stories at the End of the Line. After the speeches, lo and behold, I found my writing on the wall!
The Stories at the End of the Line anthology came into being last year as a community engagement project when the Frankston Arts centre closed its doors due to covid on 16 March 2020. The brief for the project was to write a 500-word story about the experience of being in lockdown – fiction, fact, wherever your inspiration took you. In lockdown, the community shared its imaginings and experiences.
According to Frankston Mayor Kris Bolam, the anthology received 143 submissions from writers aged 12 to 80. From these submissions, 75 pieces were selected. My story was called ‘Phone calls’ and it was a memoir piece about Mum being hospitalised during lockdown and the difficulties it presented. Seeing my writing featured on the wall was exciting, and later, when the shock wore off, the memory made me cry all over again.
One really special feature about the launch was being able to share it with a scribe tribe. I was proud to be one of six Peninsula Writers Club members who made it into the anthology. Andrea Rowe was another author in our group whose writing made it on the wall (see framed pic below). Being able to share the launch with peers added an extra element of joy.
Stories at the End of the Line is available for purchase from the Frankston Arts Centre Box Office for $10.
This Time Last Year The launch was also the opening of the exhibition This Time Last Year, a free exhibition featuring Lisa Atkinson, Jenny Rusby and the Frankston community. Alongside framed extracts from the anthology and two selected extracts written on the wall, the exhibit featured fabulous photographic artworks in the exhibitions ‘The Year we Stayed at Home’ and ‘All Dressed Up, Nowhere to Go’.
Thanks must go to Heidi Irvine and Frankston Arts Centre for doing such a stellar job coordinating the anthology and for a most wonderful launch and exhibition.
Photo credit Jenny Rusby from the exhibition ‘The Year We Stayed at Home’
The post Stories at the End of the Line appeared first on Louise Zedda-Sampson.
May 4, 2021
Bowl the Maidens Over set for June release
Bowl the Maidens Over is COMING SOON! Review copies are making their ways to reviewers as I finalise formatting on the print copies. Woot! Exciting times! However, behind the scenes as I make my lists, set my presale and release dates and work out all the logistical stuff about releasing a book into the world, I realise I haven’t really told anyone – beside my family and a few select others – what all the fuss is about.
So here goes.
About the book In 1874 at the Sandhurst Easter Fair, (Bendigo, Victoria) two teams of women cricketers assembled to play a cricket match in front of a rather large and enthusiastic crowd. It was a charity match raising funds for the Bendigo hospital and asylum. Bowl the Maidens Over: Our First Women Cricketers tells the story of these first competitive women’s cricket matches. The book follows the women players – and the members of the Rae family, pivotal in the establishment and organisation of the matches – from the first advertisement in the paper to the media storm that ensued post-game, linking to a present-day connection to an Australian sportswoman.
As told through media reports of the times, this illustrated book visits those first matches and the public’s response. The illustrations give an added dimension to the story, and the extracts from the newspapers give an insight into the public’s mind.
Prior published work about Australian women’s cricket has only offered a short mention of the game. This book expands on those mentions and plays tribute to the early women cricketers. There are names in this book cricket history fans will recognise such as Midwinter, Wills, and of course, the Bendigo United Cricket Club – one of the most influential cricket clubs in Australia in the 1800s.
Even though women’s cricket matches had been played in England on and off since the 1600s (by some accounts), in Australia the women faced both positive and negative critique about the matches. The first women’s cricket association was formed in 1905, so it appeared in this newly developing colony that the 1874 women cricketers were just ahead of their time.
Bowl the Maidens Over: Our First Women Cricketers is a small 100-page illustrated hardcover book and is due for release in June 2021.
Newsletter and updatesIf you’d like to keep up to date with release dates, special offers or any other bookish news, I now have a newsletter. You can subscribe on my Contact page.
Thanks for reading, and I look forward to sharing more news soon!
The post Bowl the Maidens Over set for June release appeared first on Louise Zedda-Sampson.
May 3, 2021
April Flash Fiction challenge – Writers Victoria
Every April Fool’s Day just before 8 a.m., there’s a bunch of us in and out of the Twitterverse waiting for that keyword from Writers Victoria – the one that kicks off the #WVFlashFic21 30-word challenge. The #WVFlashFic challenge runs all month and comprises of 30-words over 30 days, with a new one released at 8 a.m. each day. You have until midnight of that day to then email your entry in, or join the lively #WVFlashFic Twitter community and post on your feed. This year’s theme was ‘Unfold’. A winner is chosen from each day’s hundreds of entries, and from the 30 winners an overall competition winner is selected as well. Daily winners receive a postcard with writerly words of wisdom and the overall winner wins a Writers Victoria writing course.
The competition attracts entrants from all over the world and is now in its third year. I’ve only participated in the last two years and have enjoyed both times immensely. Personally, I’ve made some great writing mates plus I’ve loved reading other competitors’ words. There’s great comradery, encouragement and support – beginner or experienced writer. There are many writers I was unaware of that are now on my watch list to see what they’ll be writing next.
I’ve also won a daily competition each of the last two years, and this year I had a special mention as well. A real honour as there are such wonderful entries every day. I’m constantly in awe of the different tapestries writers weave when all given the same single word.
Last year’s winning entries can be found here, and this year’s winning entries are here. My list of entries from from last year’s competition are here, and this year’s are below. There are some days where I’ve written a few entries – it was a great procrastination! I also started a serial post – quite by accident – so you’ll see a small saga of about six entries with the characters Johnny and Mavis towards the end.
I’m absolutely hooked on this competition and can’t wait – already – until it starts next April. Thanks again to Writers Victoria and the vibrant community that participate in this month-long event.
Crease
Jack folds, mindful not to crease. Their wedding day is stitched in the shirt’s seams. Tears spill, anger returns. Jack hides the shirt, and the murder weapon. Happy anniversary, Lover.
***
Stepping up to the crease, the taunts begin:
“Girls can’t play.”
“Go home.”
Her resolve, firm.
The bowler, focused.
Smash! It’s a six!
The crowd cheer, forgetting.
But she remembers.
Develop
Memories surround me, bloom like fiery suns. Bright, brilliant, mesmerising. But they’re illusions; you are gone. My axis shifts. Grief develops falling stars; and scorching needles pierce my broken heart.
Segmentation
Isha blusters in, a storm on legs, and starts to rain.
I wipe wet six-year-old eyes.
‘It’s segmentation,’ she says.
My heart fills, and frosts.
‘Segregation,” I say, cold, numb.
***
We’re in groups by colour, black, yellow, white, brown. We huddle, uncertain.
Why do you divide us? I ask.
The alien blinks one eye and licks fat lips. ‘Taste different.’
Blossoms
It sprouted when we met and we nourished it with love. Then fed it bitterness and hate. Gnarled and twisted, it grew, like us. But when we part, it blossoms.
***
I had all of these wonderful feelings explode in my chest, bloom, blossom, then dissipate and be replaced by anguish as I tried to summon a decent thirty words.
Hands
‘I’ve done lots with these hands,’ you say, holding mine. ‘Walked with you. Carried you.’ Her smile illuminates the world.
I can’t respond. Floating on the memory, I fade away.
Illuminate
Illuminated by candlelight, I recite the spell. I’m summoning true love, together, forever.
Flashes of blood-red, sparks of midnight-black. Smoke swirls and the smell—
Oh-oh.
‘Wrong page,’ says the demon.
Crumple
Barbwire memories, sharp and piercing. You’ve chosen a younger model, left me crumpled, discarded.
Your catchphrase: ‘Use the pain!’
Indeed!
The pin slides effortlessly into your effigy. I feel better.
***
You-shaped tuxedos, beards with your trim. Anxious bodies fill the pews. Your best man looks away. My bouquet slips and I crumple, a tangle of ivory silk, abandoned and forlorn.
Renew
After reading all the printed rubbish during the Melbourne lockdown last year – most of it opinion rather than fact-based news – there’s no way I’m going to renew my newspaper subscription.
***
-RENEW- flashed luminescent on my wrist-com all week.
This new policy – pay to breath the air? No way.
When -DECOMMISSION COMMENCING- appeared, I realised my protest had been ineffective.
***
Our coffee machine dies just after we renew the subscription for more coffee. Our new model is podless. Free pods anyone?
#truestory [image error]
Open
Today’s #WVFlashFic21 Inspired a 200-word story. Back to the drawing board. Now I need to be open to a new idea @Writers_Vic [image error]
***
The box is metallic, intricately etched. A beauty! Excited, I lift the lid. It’s empty. There’s an inscription—
Your repeated warning echoes: ‘Read the instructions first, John.’
The portal opens.
Pop
I’m free, at last. I say goodbye, call you an arsehole.
Your eyes pop open. ‘Ah-ha!’
My heart stops. Thought I’d escape, now I’ll join you.
Forever.
Mean old bastard.
***
Melancholy jazz thrummed softly in the breeze, your eyes, pools of liquid light, captured suns rising and setting, daiquiris, precious moments—
‘Dinner,’ you yell.
The illusion pops.
‘Yes, dear. Coming.’
***
I’m writing more of these #WVFlashFic21 30-word stories than I should be. But all these ideas pop into my head and they just have to go somewhere, right @Writers_Vic ?
Elaborate
The grown-up suit’s too tight, shucking it off, I try on other outfits:
Post-teen – sassy.
Pre-pubescent – studious.
Toddler – toddling
What about a dip in dementia?
Elaborate plans to avoid life.
***
“The bruises aren’t ‘probe marks’. And, pod-people? Enough elaborate excuses! You’ve been at the pub! Skiving o—” Beryl is beamed aboard mid-sermon.
“See?” says John, heading to the pub.
Unravel
I wake disorientated and blind, claustrophobic. I need to get OUT! Bandages swathe me. Why? The sunlight answers immediately. Mummies are meant to stay indoors. I unravel and become dust.
***
Black and magenta blooms, tender to touch. Our love costs too much. I say no, but—
Life blurs: screams, sirens…
Red blossoms on white linen.
Sanctuary has arrived. I unravel.
Manifest
“Watch, While I manifest a white rabbit…”
The assistant whispers, ‘pull… you say ‘pull’.”
He discards the hat and waves the wand.
An assistant-sized white rabbit blinks.
“Manifest,” he says.
***
“I’ve finished!” John says, proffering the manifesto. “It’s called: Master your own Destiny.”
“That’s lovely, dear,” says his mum, folding his washing. “Have you time now to clean your room?”
Scrunch
I traverse the forest, lost, alone,
silently despairing.
And in the clearing, a frightening sight,
Monsterish and it’s … staring.
I run, although not fast enough—
Then it’s gnawing, scrunching … tearing.
Consciousness
When Joe lost consciousness, we thought he was dead. Another overdose. But he survived, came out somehow brighter. But our hearts are wrenched regardless, and from us it took away.
Burst
‘Don’t hog the popcorn, Gav,’ said Jim.
No answer.
‘Gav…?
Suddenly, a clump of blood-soaked popped kernels burst through Gav’s chest. ‘Don’t eat that!’ it said, and ate Jim’s hand.
Learn
Locked up, screws tellin’ me when to eat, almost when to piss. Mum’s words: ‘When you gonna learn?’ keep me cold company.
Lotsa roads, Mum. I pick up my book.
Explore
The invitro clinic offered an experimental enhancement. We selected, empathy. But mistakes were made:
1. They’d used alien DNA;
2. a typo: ‘telepathy’.
Johnny explores our minds. We are slaves.
Reveal
Mavis’s parents pressured for a gender reveal party, but Johnny said no. They’d agreed gender didn’t matter, but with Johnny’s alien DNA, there were probably other things to worry about.
***
I slice your skin, reveal tender, juicy flesh.
The aroma! Pungent, metallic.
Sweet.
I bite.
A rush of pleasure and heat!
An acquired taste, I know…
–
–
–
–
–
Durian, I adore you!
Origami
Even though you called the style an ‘origami lotus’ because of the ‘symmetrical line’ and ‘simple beauty’, when you finished my ‘transformation’, the haircut was only a bob with bangs.
***
Olivia consulted the origami fortune teller: Was Brad cheating? Flap 8 said yes, flap 9 said you can count on friends. Reading it out, Sandy flinched. She had her answer.
***
When Johnny’s alien family made contact, they demanded he initiate a hostile Earth takeover. But Johnny , a Fine Arts major not a warlord, said he’d prefer to practice origami.
Expand
While Johnny’s meditation class attempted to expand consciousness, Johnny reached into their minds and reshaped their ideas of enlightenment. After all, the new intergalactic regime would need willing soldiers.
***
‘I don’t quite get it…’
‘Can you expand on that?’
‘Would you like my opinion?’
‘Are you listening?’
‘Did I ask you?
#Mansplaining. Questions you never need to ask.
***
I stretch, expand, test the temperature. Chilly autumn slaps me awake, and I remember that you’ve gone. I withdraw to my cocoon. Tomorrow. I’ll face the day tomorrow.
Emerge
I called our online relationship dysfunctional. YOU called it fine. I said, how? We can’t meet, start a family. YOU said virtual: E-merge electronically, order online.
I said, no.
Delete.
***
When the purple spots emerged on Johnny’s skin, Mavis was concerned. Not about illness, but if the spots were permanent. Each day Johnny’s alien DNA was getting harder to ignore.
Unfurl
Your fingers unfurl and reveal an iridescent silver spiral. Our daughter would have called it treasure. But… Salt-tinged tears sting, wind rushes empty spaces. You return the shell to sea.
***
When Johnny’s purple spots turned into splotches, he slept downstairs. Mavis, suspicious, spied on him in the shower. There were tentacles on his back! Horrified, she watched them unfurl.
Letter
Mavis woke to a moonlight-filled room, the roller door closing shut and a letter from Johnny. He’d gone home. Mavis looked at the stars wondering where home really was.
***
‘Take a letter, Maria…’
Did he think I was a ’50s secretary?
‘Heard of voice-to-text?’ I asked.
Now he writes his own letters to his wife
about a new life.
Unwrap
‘Where to now?’ Mavis asks.
The tentacles writhe and wriggle. Johnny’s fully purple now. ‘Home?’
We look skywards. Mavis unwraps X435R2D2 in the pram.
Oh no. More purple spots.
***
You unwrapped me with joy, delight,
calling me a special, gleaming treasure!
But like all special things
Novelty fades.
Now I’m used and abandoned,
and in the op shop window.
Display
A shower screen collapse, a slip on the bathroom floor. Aimed for the towel, pulled the curtains down instead. In a road-facing bathroom, the peak-hour pedestrians viewed quite a display.
***
Mavis agreed to leave – with Johnny’s telepathic persuasion. Waiting in the desert, she’d come to. The outback sky displayed a myriad of falling stars. Mavis hoped they are exploding spaceships.
Betray
Mavis escaped Johnny’s mind control and sat at the cafe in disbelief, staring at her hands. He’d said sorry, he hadn’t known it was contagious. Purple spots. She felt betrayed.
***
He thought he was betraying confidence, telling everyone of her past. But he didn’t realise that this secret shame was her greatest strength. He’d given her a wonderful gift. Freedom.
Become
You don’t wake up and you’re a writer:
It’s up late, up early.
Submit, submit…
then reject, reject, REJECT!
Down, up.
Read.
Learn.
Rinse, repeat.
Eventually, acceptance.
Submit, reject, become.
***
Small purple buds sprouted amidst the splotches on Mavis’s back. X435R2D2 cried in the crib. Johnny waited outside. She opened the door. What would they become? Would love be enough?
Discover
Mavis discovered she loved Johnny after all. The purple wasn’t so bad, was it?
‘Wait for us!’ she sent her thoughts.
With the spots had come telepathy. It was awesome.
***
Bella discovered an extra hour in her day. Why? Had the Earth stopped spinning? A temporal abnormality? Daylight savings? Wondering, she used it up and it wasn’t extra anymore.
Unfold
Space and time unfold. The wormhole ends in a burst of stardust. Three moons circle an orange planet, X435R2D2 smiles in awe.
‘Home,’ Johnny says.
Mavis finally feels it too.
***
I open the laptop. 404 not found! Argghh! Clrl-Alt-Delete? Fail! A writers’ retreat with no laptop? A pen-and-paper weekend? Restart. RESTART! It starts. Knots of tension unfold and I begin.
The End
The post April Flash Fiction challenge – Writers Victoria appeared first on Louise Zedda-Sampson.
April Flash Fiction challenge – Writers Victoria
[image error]
Every April Fool’s Day just before 8 a.m., there’s a bunch of us in and out of the Twitterverse waiting for that keyword from Writers Victoria – the one that kicks off the #WVFlashFic21 30-word challenge. The #WVFlashFic challenge runs all month and comprises of 30-words over 30 days, with a new one released at 8 a.m. each day. You have until midnight of that day to then email your entry in, or join the lively #WVFlashFic Twitter community and post on your feed. This year’s theme was ‘Unfold’. A winner is chosen from each day’s hundreds of entries, and from the 30 winners an overall competition winner is selected as well. Daily winners receive a postcard with writerly words of wisdom and the overall winner wins a Writers Victoria writing course.
The competition attracts entrants from all over the world and is now in its third year. I’ve only participated in the last two years and have enjoyed both times immensely. Personally, I’ve made some great writing mates plus I’ve loved reading other competitors’ words. There’s great comradery, encouragement and support – beginner or experienced writer. There are many writers I was unaware of that are now on my watch list to see what they’ll be writing next.
I’ve also won a daily competition each of the last two years, and this year I had a special mention as well. A real honour as there are such wonderful entries every day. I’m constantly in awe of the different tapestries writers weave when all given the same single word.
Last year’s winning entries can be found here, and this year’s winning entries are here. My list of entries from from last year’s competition are here, and this year’s are below. There are some days where I’ve written a few entries – it was a great procrastination! I also started a serial post – quite by accident – so you’ll see a small saga of about six entries with the characters Johnny and Mavis towards the end.
I’m absolutely hooked on this competition and can’t wait – already – until it starts next April. Thanks again to Writers Victoria and the vibrant community that participate in this month-long event.
The stories
Crease
Jack folds, mindful not to crease. Their wedding day is stitched in the shirt’s seams. Tears spill, anger returns. Jack hides the shirt, and the murder weapon. Happy anniversary, Lover.
***
Stepping up to the crease, the taunts begin:
“Girls can’t play.”
“Go home.”
Her resolve, firm.
The bowler, focused.
Smash! It’s a six!
The crowd cheer, forgetting.
But she remembers.
Develop
Memories surround me, bloom like fiery suns. Bright, brilliant, mesmerising. But they’re illusions; you are gone. My axis shifts. Grief develops falling stars; and scorching needles pierce my broken heart.
Segmentation
Isha blusters in, a storm on legs, and starts to rain.
I wipe wet six-year-old eyes.
‘It’s segmentation,’ she says.
My heart fills, and frosts.
‘Segregation,” I say, cold, numb.
***
We’re in groups by colour, black, yellow, white, brown. We huddle, uncertain.
Why do you divide us? I ask.
The alien blinks one eye and licks fat lips. ‘Taste different.’
Blossoms
It sprouted when we met and we nourished it with love. Then fed it bitterness and hate. Gnarled and twisted, it grew, like us. But when we part, it blossoms.
***
I had all of these wonderful feelings explode in my chest, bloom, blossom, then dissipate and be replaced by anguish as I tried to summon a decent thirty words.
Hands
‘I’ve done lots with these hands,’ you say, holding mine. ‘Walked with you. Carried you.’ Her smile illuminates the world.
I can’t respond. Floating on the memory, I fade away.
Illuminate
Illuminated by candlelight, I recite the spell. I’m summoning true love, together, forever.
Flashes of blood-red, sparks of midnight-black. Smoke swirls and the smell—
Oh-oh.
‘Wrong page,’ says the demon.
Crumple
Barbwire memories, sharp and piercing. You’ve chosen a younger model, left me crumpled, discarded.
Your catchphrase: ‘Use the pain!’
Indeed!
The pin slides effortlessly into your effigy. I feel better.
***
You-shaped tuxedos, beards with your trim. Anxious bodies fill the pews. Your best man looks away. My bouquet slips and I crumple, a tangle of ivory silk, abandoned and forlorn.
Renew
After reading all the printed rubbish during the Melbourne lockdown last year – most of it opinion rather than fact-based news – there’s no way I’m going to renew my newspaper subscription.
***
-RENEW- flashed luminescent on my wrist-com all week.
This new policy – pay to breath the air? No way.
When -DECOMMISSION COMMENCING- appeared, I realised my protest had been ineffective.
***
Our coffee machine dies just after we renew the subscription for more coffee. Our new model is podless. Free pods anyone?
#truestory [image error]
Open
Today’s #WVFlashFic21 Inspired a 200-word story. Back to the drawing board. Now I need to be open to a new idea @Writers_Vic [image error]
***
The box is metallic, intricately etched. A beauty! Excited, I lift the lid. It’s empty. There’s an inscription—
Your repeated warning echoes: ‘Read the instructions first, John.’
The portal opens.
Pop
I’m free, at last. I say goodbye, call you an arsehole.
Your eyes pop open. ‘Ah-ha!’
My heart stops. Thought I’d escape, now I’ll join you.
Forever.
Mean old bastard.
***
Melancholy jazz thrummed softly in the breeze, your eyes, pools of liquid light, captured suns rising and setting, daiquiris, precious moments—
‘Dinner,’ you yell.
The illusion pops.
‘Yes, dear. Coming.’
***
I’m writing more of these #WVFlashFic21 30-word stories than I should be. But all these ideas pop into my head and they just have to go somewhere, right @Writers_Vic ?
Elaborate
The grown-up suit’s too tight, shucking it off, I try on other outfits:
Post-teen – sassy.
Pre-pubescent – studious.
Toddler – toddling
What about a dip in dementia?
Elaborate plans to avoid life.
***
“The bruises aren’t ‘probe marks’. And, pod-people? Enough elaborate excuses! You’ve been at the pub! Skiving o—” Beryl is beamed aboard mid-sermon.
“See?” says John, heading to the pub.
Unravel
I wake disorientated and blind, claustrophobic. I need to get OUT! Bandages swathe me. Why? The sunlight answers immediately. Mummies are meant to stay indoors. I unravel and become dust.
***
Black and magenta blooms, tender to touch. Our love costs too much. I say no, but—
Life blurs: screams, sirens…
Red blossoms on white linen.
Sanctuary has arrived. I unravel.
Manifest
“Watch, While I manifest a white rabbit…”
The assistant whispers, ‘pull… you say ‘pull’.”
He discards the hat and waves the wand.
An assistant-sized white rabbit blinks.
“Manifest,” he says.
***
“I’ve finished!” John says, proffering the manifesto. “It’s called: Master your own Destiny.”
“That’s lovely, dear,” says his mum, folding his washing. “Have you time now to clean your room?”
Scrunch
I traverse the forest, lost, alone,
silently despairing.
And in the clearing, a frightening sight,
Monsterish and it’s … staring.
I run, although not fast enough—
Then it’s gnawing, scrunching … tearing.
Consciousness
When Joe lost consciousness, we thought he was dead. Another overdose. But he survived, came out somehow brighter. But our hearts are wrenched regardless, and from us it took away.
Burst
‘Don’t hog the popcorn, Gav,’ said Jim.
No answer.
‘Gav…?
Suddenly, a clump of blood-soaked popped kernels burst through Gav’s chest. ‘Don’t eat that!’ it said, and ate Jim’s hand.
Learn
Locked up, screws tellin’ me when to eat, almost when to piss. Mum’s words: ‘When you gonna learn?’ keep me cold company.
Lotsa roads, Mum. I pick up my book.
Explore
The invitro clinic offered an experimental enhancement. We selected, empathy. But mistakes were made:
1. They’d used alien DNA;
2. a typo: ‘telepathy’.
Johnny explores our minds. We are slaves.
Reveal
Mavis’s parents pressured for a gender reveal party, but Johnny said no. They’d agreed gender didn’t matter, but with Johnny’s alien DNA, there were probably other things to worry about.
***
I slice your skin, reveal tender, juicy flesh.
The aroma! Pungent, metallic.
Sweet.
I bite.
A rush of pleasure and heat!
An acquired taste, I know…
–
–
–
–
–
Durian, I adore you!
Origami
Even though you called the style an ‘origami lotus’ because of the ‘symmetrical line’ and ‘simple beauty’, when you finished my ‘transformation’, the haircut was only a bob with bangs.
***
Olivia consulted the origami fortune teller: Was Brad cheating? Flap 8 said yes, flap 9 said you can count on friends. Reading it out, Sandy flinched. She had her answer.
***
When Johnny’s alien family made contact, they demanded he initiate a hostile Earth takeover. But Johnny , a Fine Arts major not a warlord, said he’d prefer to practice origami.
Expand
While Johnny’s meditation class attempted to expand consciousness, Johnny reached into their minds and reshaped their ideas of enlightenment. After all, the new intergalactic regime would need willing soldiers.
***
‘I don’t quite get it…’
‘Can you expand on that?’
‘Would you like my opinion?’
‘Are you listening?’
‘Did I ask you?
#Mansplaining. Questions you never need to ask.
***
I stretch, expand, test the temperature. Chilly autumn slaps me awake, and I remember that you’ve gone. I withdraw to my cocoon. Tomorrow. I’ll face the day tomorrow.
Emerge
I called our online relationship dysfunctional. YOU called it fine. I said, how? We can’t meet, start a family. YOU said virtual: E-merge electronically, order online.
I said, no.
Delete.
***
When the purple spots emerged on Johnny’s skin, Mavis was concerned. Not about illness, but if the spots were permanent. Each day Johnny’s alien DNA was getting harder to ignore.
Unfurl
Your fingers unfurl and reveal an iridescent silver spiral. Our daughter would have called it treasure. But… Salt-tinged tears sting, wind rushes empty spaces. You return the shell to sea.
***
When Johnny’s purple spots turned into splotches, he slept downstairs. Mavis, suspicious, spied on him in the shower. There were tentacles on his back! Horrified, she watched them unfurl.
Letter
Mavis woke to a moonlight-filled room, the roller door closing shut and a letter from Johnny. He’d gone home. Mavis looked at the stars wondering where home really was.
***
‘Take a letter, Maria…’
Did he think I was a ’50s secretary?
‘Heard of voice-to-text?’ I asked.
Now he writes his own letters to his wife
about a new life.
Unwrap
‘Where to now?’ Mavis asks.
The tentacles writhe and wriggle. Johnny’s fully purple now. ‘Home?’
We look skywards. Mavis unwraps X435R2D2 in the pram.
Oh no. More purple spots.
***
You unwrapped me with joy, delight,
calling me a special, gleaming treasure!
But like all special things
Novelty fades.
Now I’m used and abandoned,
and in the op shop window.
Display
A shower screen collapse, a slip on the bathroom floor. Aimed for the towel, pulled the curtains down instead. In a road-facing bathroom, the peak-hour pedestrians viewed quite a display.
***
Mavis agreed to leave – with Johnny’s telepathic persuasion. Waiting in the desert, she’d come to. The outback sky displayed a myriad of falling stars. Mavis hoped they are exploding spaceships.
Betray
Mavis escaped Johnny’s mind control and sat at the cafe in disbelief, staring at her hands. He’d said sorry, he hadn’t known it was contagious. Purple spots. She felt betrayed.
***
He thought he was betraying confidence, telling everyone of her past. But he didn’t realise that this secret shame was her greatest strength. He’d given her a wonderful gift. Freedom.
Become
You don’t wake up and you’re a writer:
It’s up late, up early.
Submit, submit…
then reject, reject, REJECT!
Down, up.
Read.
Learn.
Rinse, repeat.
Eventually, acceptance.
Submit, reject, become.
***
Small purple buds sprouted amidst the splotches on Mavis’s back. X435R2D2 cried in the crib. Johnny waited outside. She opened the door. What would they become? Would love be enough?
Discover
Mavis discovered she loved Johnny after all. The purple wasn’t so bad, was it?
‘Wait for us!’ she sent her thoughts.
With the spots had come telepathy. It was awesome.
***
Bella discovered an extra hour in her day. Why? Had the Earth stopped spinning? A temporal abnormality? Daylight savings? Wondering, she used it up and it wasn’t extra anymore.
Unfold
Space and time unfold. The wormhole ends in a burst of stardust. Three moons circle an orange planet, X435R2D2 smiles in awe.
‘Home,’ Johnny says.
Mavis finally feels it too.
***
I open the laptop. 404 not found! Argghh! Clrl-Alt-Delete? Fail! A writers’ retreat with no laptop? A pen-and-paper weekend? Restart. RESTART! It starts. Knots of tension unfold and I begin.
The End
March 7, 2021
Cover reveal!
It is with great pleasure that I reveal the cover of my book, Bowl the Maidens Over – Our First Women Cricketers. It is the story of the first games of women’s cricket played in front of a crowd in Australia in 1874 and 1875. The early games have not been documented anywhere in detail until now. Not just about cricket, it’s also a story about women trying to be themselves in a place and time there were far too many restraints.
Thanks to Lorna Hendry and the British Newspaper Archive for the fabulous cover. Publication is currently scheduled for May.
